LLYNN GWYNANT,
and after a while beheld it stretching beneath me upon my left hand. The valley forms a bowl among the hills. The bottom is a small grassy plain, dotted with trees, which has obtained the appellation of Beauty sleeping in the lap of Terror. The mountains that surround the vale, have a wild and rugged appearance. As I proceeded along the road towards the head of the valley, a horn was sounded from the mountain, and I perceived a Welsh girl standing upon a projecting eminence: bare headed and bare footed, was this nymph of Cambria; her cheeks were swelled out with her occupation, and she looked like a female Boreas, bursting with the wind she was sending forth by degrees to alarm the world.
She eyed me with glances of curiosity all the while, and I thought she could perhaps give me some information about the valley, which might be interesting; so quitting the direct road, I scrambled up the hill side, and asked her the meaning of her sounding the horn so loudly? But she either did not, or would not, understand me; and after vainly endeavouring to extract any thing from her, I quietly sat myself down, delighted by the splendid view beneath me, and gave vent to my feelings in the following lines: